


Merlin Oneshots

by maddie2316



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Capture, Fluff, Gen, Good Mordred, Hunting, Hurt, Magic, Magic Reveal, Protective Knights, Scar reveal, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddie2316/pseuds/maddie2316
Summary: A collection of Merlin one shots
Kudos: 62





	1. Hunting Trip

"Get up," Gaius called through the wooden door separating the physician’s office with the small bedroom of Merlin's. "You're going to be late Merlin," he hollers up the steps once more. Merlin rolls over with a sigh, his body groaning in soreness from the past week’s chores and assignation attempts. Of course, the oblivious prat King Arthur, only thought that Merlin was simply in the Tavern when Arthur went looking for him. Except, Merlin only wished that he was in the Tavern, drinking his sorrows away. Instead, he was actually defeating the son of a sorcerer who was burned on the pyre. This most recent fight had left Merlin with a gash going down the outside of his left leg, starting at the top of his knee all the way to his ankle, making it even more difficult to walk on. 

Finally making his way out of bed, he looks out the window. Merlin, realizing what time it must be, rushes to throw his clothes on, placing the red neckerchief on last. Running down the stairs, he grabs a small piece of bread and says a quick good morning to Gaius before running out the door. Merlin takes the secret passages that he memorized his first month of being here straight to the kitchens. The cook gives him a fierce, scolding looking as she hands him breakfast for the King. 

“Thank you,” Merlin says in a hurry as he grabs the plate and rushes out the door. Finally, he slows his pace down, as to not drop the food, and walks to the King’s chambers. 

“Morning Merlin,” Gwaine calls to him, reaching his hand to grab some of the food off of the plate. 

“Good morning Gwaine,” Merlin greets back with a chuckle before whacking Gwaine’s fingers off of the plate. “This is for the prat himself Gwaine, and as he is holding a training today, I suggest you leave him his breakfast. You know how he gets on an empty stomach.” Merlin keeps the smile on his face as he watches Gwaine drop the food, defeated. “But I guess it’s a good thing I keep an apple in my pocket,” Merlin continues, tossing the apple in to Gwaine’s hands. 

“Oh, you know me so well!” Gwaine says gratefully. 

“That I do,” Merlin shouts back over his shoulder as he continues on with his walk, finally reaching Arthur’s chambers. Not bothering to knock, Merlin charges into the chambers and sets the plate of food down on the table with a clang. “Rise and shine!” He gladly sings out as he pulls the curtains back, allowing sunlight to flood the room. A groan arises from the grumpy King.

“Merlin what have I told you about being cheerful in the morning?” he asks, his voice muffled by the pillow he has shoved his face into. 

“Uh,” Merlin tries to think back, “to not be cheerful?” he asks Arthur with a smile still on his face. Arthur simply just grunts back into the pillow as he tries to go back to sleep. “We can’t have that Sire” Merlin says sarcastically as he grabs a hold of Arthurs feet. Eventually, Merlin succeeds in the daily battle and gets the King out of bed, dressed, and sat at the table. 

“Merlin,” the King starts out with a smile on his face. The boy in question groans on the inside as he already knows that he is not going to like this. “As King, I have made the decision to cancel training for today, at least training for me and the Knights of the Round Table.” Arthur finishes off saying. 

“And why is that?” Merlin asks, already dreading the answer. 

“Well, we will be going hunting today! I know how much you love hunting Merlin,” Arthur fails in holding a smile off of his face. Merlin groans, regretting getting up this morning. 

“As you wish,” he manages to get out with a huff. Merlin is then tasked with relaying the message to the knights, packing the food and bags, along with some medicine just in case, and getting the horses ready. About two hours later and they were all ready to get going. 

“Took you long enough!” Arthur exclaims, as they mount their horses. Merlin gets ready to retort with a sarcastic comment, but instead bites his tongue as a jolt of pain shoots through his leg as he mounts his horse. He sucks a breath in and lowers his gaze, but not before catching the confused eyes of Arthur, and the concerned eyes of Lancelot. Merlin says nothing, hoping that it’ll be forgotten as Arthur leads them out of the city gates and into the woods. 

Gwaine quickly covers up the silence with one of his many wild Tavern stories, and soon has all of the knights invested in what he is saying. All, of course, except for Lancelot, who speeds his horse up next to Merlin’s, now riding side-by-side. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see that Merlin,” Lancelot shoots him a concerned glance. Merlin takes another breath in. Even though Lancelot knows that Merlin uses magic to help protect Camelot, he doesn’t know when or at what cost. Merlin believes that it is better that way, as no one but him can get hurt when stopping the assassination attempts. 

“See what?” Merlin plays off with a chuckle, trying his best to sound ignorant of the matter. 

“I know you are in pain,” Lance states. “I don’t know where, or what happened, but I do wish you would tell me.” Merlin adverts his eyes at the pleas, but it would take a lot more than that before he would let anyone in on how much pain he goes through. “Just take it easy, alright?” Lancelot asks, knowing that Merlin keeps himself tightly bottled up. Merlin simply nods, wishing that he could be taking it easy instead of on horseback as it was sending small jolts of pain up and down his leg. 

They continue on with the hunt, catching as many small critters as they can with Merlin there. He has been known to scare off the poor animals with his clumsiness. They hunt for a few more hours, but as the sun starts to set through the trees, Arthur decides to call it a day. 

“Let’s make camp here,” he shouts through the woods. All the men murmur in agreement, happy with what the day had brought them but still tired from the work. Merlin dismounts his horse, holding in the wince as he lands on his left leg. He continues to ignore the ever-growing pain as he unsaddles the horses for the knights and starts making up camp. Taking a step back, he admires his quick work before proceeding on with making dinner. The knights settle down on logs around the fire that Merlin was using to make dinner with. This time, it is not Gwaine who begins with a story, but rather Mordred. He tells a story of the first time he set foot in a Tavern, with Gwaine nonetheless, and how they both ended up getting kicked out after drinking the whole stash of ale that they had. While Mordred is telling his tale, Merlin thinks back to the time where the boy had come to Merlin, wracked with guilt. Mordred had gone over to Morgana’s side, but when she had tasked Mordred with killing Arthur, Mordred was unable to follow through when the time came. Instead, Mordred had thrown the sword down and fell to his knees, begging his King to forgive him or to kill him. Arthur forgave him, and slowly went back to trusting him as Mordred delivered Morgana to him. 

Merlin had found it hard to trust Mordred again, but the Great Dragon had explained to Merlin that the future, as much as it kept be told, is still kept a secret until that moment arrives for it to unravel. So now, a year later and here they were. All of Merlin’s brothers, alive and well, but starving for some of Merlin’s famous rabbit stew. 

After plates had been licked clean by all, Merlin was tasked with cleaning up and watering horses. However, as he attempts to put weight on his bad leg, he can no longer ignore the pain as his leg buckles underneath him. He lets out a barely audible whimper, that wouldn’t have been heard had the knights not already been looking at him. 

“Merlin?” Arthur starts off, looking at his servant, his friend, in concern. Because sure, Merlin is inherently clumsy and does tend to fall often, however Merlin hadn’t even taken a step before falling right back down. Merlin takes another breath in and puts a smile on his face, erasing all evidence of pain. 

“You best be careful Arthur, one might think you cared,” he says with a chuckle, going to stand again. Although just as before, his leg buckles underneath the pressure that he put on it, falling once more. This time, all the knights had been looking carefully at him, and knew that it wasn’t his clumsiness causing the fall. Merlin groans inwardly, he did not have the strength or the energy to explain what had happened 

“Merlin, what happened?” This time it was the gentle giant, Percival, expressing his concern over the boy he saw as his younger brother. Merlin keeps his gaze down on the ground, trying to quickly think up an explanation for this. How can he explain the gash the trails his leg? He can’t say what really happened, that a boy grabbed a sword to injure Merlin as he had gotten in the way between his true target, the King. That Merlin stopped the poor boy with his magic, sadly killing him. Merlin looks up after hearing the knights stand, his eyes meet those of Lancelot’s but finds no relief, no savior. 

“I-um I just fell uh when I was um collecting f-f-firewood,” Merlin manages to stutter out, letting his gaze fall once more.

“You know Arthur is right,” Leon starts out, “you really are a terrible liar.” Merlin groans inwardly, if only they knew, if only they could know the truth. Merlin pushes his body back, trying to create more space between him and the Knights, but they continue to close the gap. He hears the leaves rustle on the ground as the Knights find new spots to sit, yet this time only inches away from Merlin. 

“So, what really happened?” This time it was Elyan who asked the question that they all wanted to know the answer to. For nobody had the right to hurt Merlin, their Merlin. 

“I told you, I j-just fell and got a s-scratch,” he lets out shakily with less stutters. Merlin hopes that it will ease their worries. “Gaius has already taken a look at it,” he lies through his teeth. 

“Ahh,” Arthur begins, causing Merlin to let out another silent groan. As much of an oblivious prat that Arthur is, he cares a great deal for Merlin and knows that Merlin doesn’t share his pain with anyone, not even Gaius. “So, you won’t mind us taking a look at it then,” he finishes saying. 

“Well actually it doesn’t need to be looked at,” Merlin attempts, pushing himself backwards once more. But instead of finding his back against a rough tree, he finds his back pushed up against a pair of two legs. 

“I don’t believe you” the owner of the legs, Mordred, says inside his head. Mordred kneels down behind Merlin, effectively trapping him. 

“This can go one of two ways Merlin, either you willingly show us what happened, or we will help you show us what happened. Your choice,” Gwaine states with a straight face, showing he is rather serious about the matter at hand. 

“Well you see you guys, this is all a bit crazy and actually I’m feeling quite tired so if you don’t mind-“Merlin tries standing up but gets stopped as his arm is grabbed by Mordred. 

“There’s your choice then, Mordred,” Arthur addresses the young Knight “if you will.” Mordred quickly grabs Merlin’s other arm and puts them both behind his back. Merlin feels his magic starting to bubble underneath his skin, waiting to protect him but Merlin pushes it back down. Showing them his magic would only make matters worse, he thinks to himself. Suddenly he feels a pressure place on his good leg and looks to see Lancelot holding it down. Betrayal flashes across Merlin’s eyes, he thought of all people Lancelot would know and help him out. 

“It is for your own good,” he says softly, understanding what Merlin is feeling. Gwaine grabs a hold of Merlin’s left ankle and Arthur starts rolling up his pant leg. Merlin closes his eyes, not wanting to see his friends’ reactions. But it doesn’t help much as he hears the gasps that escape their mouths. He feels the release of pressure from his ankle as Gwaine lets go, and he hears the thump of a fist connecting with a bag. 

“Who did this?” Arthur asks, his voice low with anger. Merlin gulps before opening his eyes and looking straight at Arthur. 

“I told you, I fell,” he states once more, but this time as a whisper. 

“That’s a lie,” Mordred states from behind him. Merlin watches as Arthurs eyes narrow at him in anger. 

“Percival,” Arthur turns to the gentle giant. “Go and grab Merlin’s bag, he always packs emergency supplies.”

“Arthur that is not needed,” Merlin tries reasoning, but closes his mouth as quickly as he opened as Arthur sends a glare his way. 

“Obviously Merlin you can’t be the judge of that. And, until you are ready to tell the truth of the matter, I suggest you keep your mouth closed.” Arthur states with more anger seeping through his voice, and for once in his life, Merlin listens. He listens as they rummage through his bag, pulling out bandages and a mixture to help with the pain. He listens as Percival takes control as he has had training from the Druids in healing. He listens as they talk amongst themselves, as Lancelot tries to calm Gwaine down. And he listens to Arthurs breathing next to him, in and out, in and out. Merlin matches is own breathing to Arthurs as he tries to calm himself down as he knows sooner or later, he is going to have to explain the cut. Arthur lets out a deep sigh, snapping Merlin out of his thoughts. 

“It really was just a fall Arthur,” he tries one final time, but by the way Arthur’s head snaps it, he realizes that it was the wrong move. 

“Merlin do please shut up. You are a horrible liar, and I would like to know who the hell thought it was okay to slice your leg open with a sword,” he exclaims, seething with anger. The rest of the knights stop what they were doing and listen. Merlin lets out a groan, this trip has been the worst hunting trip of all. 

“It doesn’t matter-“Merlin tries to get out, but Lancelot is the one to interrupt him. 

“It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter that you’re hurt! Merlin! I speak for everyone here when I say that it matters to us because you matter to us, and to say anything else is a lie!” Lance finishes off, looking almost as angry as the others. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Merlin puts his hand up to stop any more interruption. “Because I handle the situation and it won’t happen again.” 

“Fine,” Arthur concedes, letting out a breath of anger. “But if this happens again, you come to us immediately. And that is an order that you will listen to, understand?” Merlin nods his head, silently thanking the Triple Goddess. For he knows that it will happen again, but as much as he can help it he will keep it a secret.


	2. Arthur Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation from the previous chapter. What will Arthur do when he finds out what has happened, and who Merlin really his.

Merlin grunts, struggling to open his eyes as he hears the wooden door slam shut. A couple of days ago, he recalls, Morgana had been waiting for him in the woods when he had gone to collect herbs for Gaius. Somehow, she knew that he would be there, all alone and ignorant as to what was going to happen. She had knocked him out and taken him back to the hole that she called home. There, she had tortured him and questioned him as to where and who Emrys lived. He had suffered by her hand for three days; his body only being held up by the chains that grasped his wrists. On the third day, Morgana finally ventured out of the hovel as she needed to go collect food. Merlin took this as his chance and summoned all of his remaining energy to use for his magic. 

“Confractus!” He whispered out; his throat swollen from screaming. The chains snap above him, and he drops ungracefully to the floor. Pain rushes through every limb of his body, but he has no time to spare. As quickly as he can, Merlin pushes himself up and out the door. The bright sun burns his eyes as he steps out, but he adjusts soon enough to the light. Merlin looks around, and recognizes the place that Morgana held him captive, as it was not his first time being taken here by Morgana. Slowly, he starts walking in the direction that he believes to be Camelot, and if he is correct it is going to be a long walk. 

Minutes turn into hours, but Merlin keeps walking. He thinks on this walk of his, as he usually has much to think about. Mainly, he wonders how Morgana knew where he was going to be as not even Arthur knew he was going out to gather herbs the other day. He continues his thinking, this time trying to reason up a lie as to where he went to tell Arthur. Merlin stops walking as he hears talking, and some obnoxious laughing, coming from ahead of him. As silent as a mouse, Merlin begins walking again, coming to stand behind a rather larger tree. He peers around it and catches sight of Knights in red capes. But no, not just any Knights, the Knights of the Round Table. Oh no, he thinks to himself. Ever since that hunting trip, Merlin already had to be extra careful with showing his pain as the Knights of the Round Table, and the King himself, had been keeping a close eye on him. With his body currently covered in bruises and open cuts, he has no idea what he is going to say to his close friends. For if they know that Morgana was the one to take him, they will want to know why and where she lives, and how Merlin escaped. 

“Emrys?” A voice pops into his head. Merlin groans to himself, he has been found out by Mordred. “Hey! Shhh!” He hears Mordred tell the other Knights. “Merlin?” Mordred asks out loud this time. Merlin lets a shaky breath out; he knows that there is no way that he is getting out of this one. Ever so slowly, Merlin moves his body out from behind the tree, and gives a short wave of his hand. 

“What are you guys doing out here?” Merlin asks the group, his eyes landing on the King Prat himself. 

“We should be asking you the same thing!” Arthur exclaims, narrowing his eyes. Merlin lets lose a chuckle, not moving any closer to the warm fire in fear of the Knights seeing his injuries. 

“Oh, you know, I had to go and gather some rather rare herbs for Gaius,” Merlin manages to get out the half-truth with no stutter. His aching body, however, is close to betraying him so Merlin takes the initiative to sit down before he collapses. The Knight’s eyes narrow at him, for after the last hunting trip that they all went on, they all have grown accustomed to Merlin’s half-truths but also his body language. 

“Why don’t you move closer to the fire?” Gwaine asks, “you must be cold.” Merlin freezes, not even bothering to breathe as the air is so cold that his breath would be seen and give him away. He shifts his eyes over the Knights faces, all of them there, and all of them staring back at him with concern in their eyes. All except for Arthurs. Merlin’s eyes rest on Arthur’s once more before falling back down to the ground. He hears as Arthur stands up and walks toward him. Once Arthur crouches down in front of him, and grabs his upper arm, Merlin has no choice except to look his friend, his King, in the eyes. 

“Merlin,” his King begins, “if you are not going to tell us the truth now, then get some sleep and we will discuss it in the morning.” Arthur finishes off, with not even an ounce of sarcasm that is usually evident in his tone. Merlin raises his eyebrows. 

“Is this you caring?” He teasingly asks.

“Don’t make me regret it,” Arthur warns him before letting go of his arm and standing up. “Percival, toss me Merlin’s bag?” He asks the Knight, and soon enough Arthur has his bag in hand. He digs out an extra blanket and hands it over to Merlin. “We brought it just in case we found you stumbling around out here. Get some sleep, we will be discussing this in the morning.” Arthur states before walking away. Merlin nods his head in thanks and wraps the blanket around his torn clothes. Merlin knew that he wasn’t going to be getting out of talking about what happened in the morning, as Arthur was so close to him that he could see the new marks on Merlin’s skin, and those marks don’t show up with herb gathering. Merlin lays down, using his sore arm as a pillow and tries to get some sleep. 

Merlin groans awake to the chatter of birds in the trees, slowly remembering where he is and what’s happening. He takes a look down at his body, his shirt is ripped and cut as Morgana didn’t bother removing it as she tortured him. His right ankle is slightly puffy, and just by breathing he is sure he has a broken rib or two. His arms are heavy and sore, having held his body up for a few days, and his wrists are raw and bleeding from the chains that kept him imprisoned. 

Merlin looks around him, thankful that none of the other Knights are awake yet. Grabbing his bag, Merlin walks back behind the larger tree that covered him the night before. He breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes that there was an extra shirt in the bag for him. As fast as he can, Merlin changes shirts and stuffs the old one bag in the bag. Wincing slightly at the movement, Merlin stands once more. Since none of the other Knights are up yet, Merlin gets everything set and ready to make breakfast, thinking that if he can show them that he is fine, then they won’t remember to ask questions. However, his movements are visibly slower, and his open cuts scrape up against his clothing, causing them to burn with each turn. As breakfast is almost ready, Merlin sits himself back down, this time closer the fire that he got going once more. Merlin takes the last few moments of peace that he knows he has to try to think of an excuse. He doesn’t want to continue lying to his friends, as he needs them to trust him, but he may have no choice this morning. 

“Merlin!” Lancelot exclaims as soon as his eyes are open. Merlin forces a smile onto his face, but by the look in Lancelot’s eyes, he knows that the smile didn’t fool him. 

“Good morning,” he replies, as he watches the other Knights begin to stir. “I did get some breakfast going if you guys are hungry.” He adds in quickly. All the Knights slowly get up from their bed rolls and grab some of the breakfast that was prepared for them. Lancelot grabs two bowls and spoons an even amount into both, before handing one to Merlin. Merlin looks up at him in surprise. 

“You didn’t eat dinner last night; you must be hungry.” Lancelot relays his thinking. Merlin, too shocked to say anything, simply gives his long-time friend a nod and slowly starts putting the food into his mouth. The more that he eats, the hungrier he becomes as he realizes that it has been three days since his last full meal. Once they have all grabbed their food, the Knights sit around the fire and silently eat their breakfast. Even Gwaine doesn’t crack jokes, as they all know that there is going to be a serious conversation. Merlin feels his chest tighten as he keeps his eyes on his food, knowing that there is no way out of this conversation. 

“Merlin, what happened?” Leon jumps into it, asking the question that they all want answered. 

“No half-truths or lies Merlin, we need to know what happened,” Arthur states, staring at his best friend, although he would never admit it out loud, with concern lacing his eyes. Merlin lets out a short, shaky breath. 

“Very well,” Merlin says shortly. “Morgana kidnapped me.” There were some gasps coming from his friends, causing Merlin to raise his eyes. They automatically find Arthurs eyes, and he can see the anger overlapping the concern as he thinks of his sister. 

“Why?” Gwaine seethes out. “What did she want?” Merlin takes a breath in; this is the part where he has to lie. 

“She wanted information, about Camelot and how to get past defenses,” the lie spills from his mouth like acid. Mordred raises his eyebrows at this, for he knows that there must be more to that, and he is not the only one to question Merlin’s statement. 

“You know Merlin,” Arthur begins, dragging out Merlin’s name through his lips. “Ever since that last hunting trip, and I think I can say this on the behalf of everyone here, we have gotten quite use to your half-truths and how you act when you tell a lie. Your eyes shift downward, or to the side, your body falls in on itself as if trying to hide away, and often times your hands shake so fiercely that you have to tighten them into fists.” And sure enough, Merlin’s hands were fists. “So,” the not-so-oblivious prat continues. “what are you not telling us?” Merlin shakes his head, if he told the truth then his secret would come out. For he knew that his friends would accept nothing less than the truth, and now it seems that they know what to look for when he is hiding something. 

“Emrys,” Mordred’s voice enters his head. “Arthur knows of my magic and has not been angry with me. You must tell him, for it is time he knows.” Merlin shakes his head once more, trying to get Mordred’s voice out. 

“I have lied to him for years now Mordred, he may be accepting of magic, but he will see my lies for what they are, betrayal and a lack of trust.” Merlin replies to Mordred, giving him his reasoning. 

“It is time, the longer you keep this secret, the worse it will be when it comes out,” Mordred states with a finality to his tone. Merlin sighs, for he knows that his young friend is right. His eyes find those of Arthurs once more. 

“Sire,” he says with sincerity. “You must not think of me differently, I am still the same person, and I would never do anything to betray you. I did it all for you,” he says sadly. Arthur moves his hand as a way to say continue, so Merlin does. Saying it would be too hard, he thinks to himself. Instead, he raises his hand and his eyes flashed gold. Small, blue butterflies appear out of nowhere. Arthur lets out a soft chuckle. 

“Merlin you always were a girls petticoat,” he says with humor lacing his voice. 

“You’re not mad?” Merlin questions him in disbelief. Arthur shakes his head. 

“I’m furious at the lies you told me, and when we do get back to Camelot, I want to know everything. But no, I figured out long ago that you had magic. Branches don’t drop that often on bandits, and swords don’t suddenly heat up that much.” He explains, proving to Merlin that Arthur was truly not as oblivious as he thought he was.


End file.
